


VLD Exophilia Event 2020

by Imawriteritswhatido



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Exophilia, F/M, Fairies, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26533534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imawriteritswhatido/pseuds/Imawriteritswhatido
Summary: Have you ever wanted to write an interspecies romance between a human and a mermaid? A Beauty and the Beast story? How about two star-crossed lovers from two separate fantasy races?Well, if you’re in the Voltron fandom you can!For the entire month of September, post drabbles and artwork of your favorite VLD pairings in AUs where love knows no boundries.And here are my submissions for this year.
Relationships: Allura/Lotor (Voltron), Haggar/Zarkon (Voltron), Keith/Romelle (Voltron), Lance/Pidge | Katie Holt
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	1. Moonlit

**Author's Note:**

> My first Voltron Fan event! Hopefully, this'll inspire someone to make their own works for the event. Anyway, enjoy the first installment.

He wore red for their meetings.

It was to make sure that she could see him in the foliage and to recognize him.

Clandestine meetings in the forest where they had first crossed paths, back in the spring when the heat hadn’t been smothering and even the dark of the night seemed stagnant and muggy. Romelle felt sticky and frazzled, but the feeling of her lover’s kisses on her neck was enough to distract her from the sweltering air around them.

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”

They’d forgotten to check their calendars. The night they’d decided to meet had been the night of the full moon, when Keith’s transformation took place.

He and his family (he called it a pack) lived deep within the woods, far from human contact and took pains to avoid them. Too many mobs, when she’d asked why they did this, too many dying screams. The night he’d first stayed over in her townhouse, he’d awoken to memories of this and she’d held him, given him words of comfort, kissed his cheek until he’d fallen back to sleep in her arms.

She’d wondered just what would cause a family to be run out of town in the way he described.

It was not until she had gone looking for him on a cold winter night in January, worried for his safety during a snowstorm that she had seen why first hand.

He took the shape of a wolf once, sometimes twice a month, a condition he’d had since he was born he’d told her. A condition that worried him since the time she’d first told her, that he would one day lose command of his senses and destroy everything around him.

“You shouldn’t worry,” Romelle told him, running a hand through the fur at the nape of his neck, “it’s you, so I don’t mind.”

“I just…”

“I don’t mind,” she said, much more firmly. Her hands slid to his back and she marveled at the broadness of it, how the moonlight had made him somehow…more enticing to her.

Instead of hands running up and down her sides, claws raked up them, as gently as humanly possible. His voice was rougher, more guttural, but still unmistakably his. His teeth are replaced with fangs, but he takes care not to break her skin as he kisses her. His eyes, normally dark and storm colored, were now the color of amber. Where once he had only been as tall as her, now he was easily a head and shoulders over her and new muscle had grown in all the right places.

But the gentleness had stayed, the protectiveness had stayed, the tenderness that she’d fallen in love with the first time they’d met in the forest had not changed with his body.

They’d met when she’d been on her way to her grandmother’s house. He’d been working as a woodsman and escorted her to her grandmother’s front door.

They’d kept in touch after that, in spite of the town’s best efforts.

“They’re cursed,” the apothecary had said, “every last one of them damned.”

Romelle didn’t care. He would come into town to stay with her for dinner, she would take food to him in the woods, meeting in a clearing he’d shown her filled with wildflowers and an old weeping willow where they spent their time.

But even their private sanctuary was no match for the early August heat.

There was a sound of ripping fabric and Keith growled.

“Sorry,” he said, shrugging the remains of his shirt off, “this body’s hard on my clothes.”

He’d taken the red jerkin he wore for their meetings off by the time she’d reached the clearing. Romelle frowned at the absence of contact.

“Well, you’re lucky,” she said, “I don’t have an excuse to get out of this dress.”

“Do you want one?” Keith asked, returning to her.

“Do you have a reason for me?” Romelle asked.

“Well…”

Even through the fur, Romelle could see just how much Keith was blushing.

Honestly, she loved him but when Keith got bashful, he could be very slow to answer. And she was burning up, in spite of the fact that she was wearing the lightest outfit she owned.

She’d have to take matters into her own hands. Now seemed like the time to try something she’d read in a book she’d bought and kept hidden in the bottom of her stockings drawer. She’d probably be dead from embarrassment if it didn’t work, but you never know if you don’t try.

Hooking her leg around her lover’s hip, Romelle pulled herself up to the shell of his ear, now triangular in shape from his transformation and took it between her teeth. Keith yelped in surprise at her actions. Hoping she hadn’t hurt him, she soothed the bite mark she’d left with her tongue before blowing on it.

Keith crumpled, like a burning leaf, drawing her close to him and she hears the noise he makes from deep within his throat.

“Romelle…”

“Did you like that?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Keith backed her into the trunk of the willow, her other leg wrapping around his waist as he began to kiss and nip at her pulse.

Romelle gasped as her mind was began to haze from his ministrations and she felt his movement against her, a rutting movement.

“Is there a place we can cool off?” she whispered.

“The river,” Keith said, his voice weak, a large paw-like hand fisting the skirt of her dress.

“Take me there,” Romelle said, “please.”

Keith gathered her into his arms and with all the grace of a forest animal, loped off into the night, towards the river. Romelle tightened her hold around his neck. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too far away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to comment and leave kudos. And feel free to make your own VLD Exophilia posts, using this handy bingo card I've made here https://64.media.tumblr.com/dda5e7ac44140a1c01f05fbe27d804bc/0fde0dc33c4c0fb8-9f/s1280x1920/d6120f9415b3215eda90cef39228f6465a747d86.png


	2. What are you?

The first time she saw him in person, he was floating in the water, a few feet away from her rowboat, watching her.

He shouldn’t be real. She was a marine biologist. She dealt in facts not fairy tales.

But here he was, the creature that had rescued her from drowning, the creature that had invaded her thoughts since the week before last. A Merman.

“You are real,” she said.

He swam up to the side of her boat, pulling himself up on the side and crossing his arms on the edge.

“Course I’m real,” he said.

Are you? She almost asked. She was only human after all. Could anyone blame her for admiring natural beauty?

The sun kissed richness of his skin, the sharp definition of his jawline, his broad shoulders, the healthy proportions of his arms, and the infuriating smirk he wore as he noticed her wandering gaze.

“I’m very real,” he said smarmily, pulling himself up fully into the boat.

Pidge swallowed when she saw his arm muscles swell and the distinct pectorals of his chest, running down into a lithe waist and a tail the color of sapphires. He lounged in the boat in front of her like he was the subject of a photo shoot (do mer-people know what skin-mags are?), fixing a pair of bedroom eyes onto her.

“Very real,” he said, a finger absently tracing his navel.

Pidge swallowed a lump in her throat.

“What do you want?” she asked. The merman raised an eyebrow, one that she could swear had been perfectly groomed.

“What do you want?” he asked, “you’ve been swimming around my territory for so long, I wonder what you’re up to.”

He bit his lower lip.

“Do you maybe want me?”

Pidge frowned.

“I’m a scientist. Of course I’m interested in you.”

The merman returned her expression.

“You’re no fun,” he said, grabbing the side of the boat, “my mother says sailors used to be way more fun.”

“Scientist,” Pidge corrected him, crawling over the side where he’s slid back into the water, “and according to the local fishers, you’ve only started frequenting this cove after I got here.”

She smirked.

“So maybe it’s you who wants me.”

The merman’s cheeks darkened and he looked away.

“That’s…”

Two could play this game. Lowering her eyelids, Pidge unzipped the top of her wetsuit and leaned forward.

“Don’t lie,” she said, “you either have a crush on me or you don’t.”

The merman swallowed and floated forward until he was directly at the side of her boat. He reached up, a hand that was simultaneously cool and warm caressing her cheek. Pidge felt the confidence she’d mustered falter. The look on his face wasn’t cocky as it had been before. It was tender, maybe reverent even.

“I want to know what you are,” he said. He removed her glasses and she almost yelled not to let them fall before he dropped them onto the deck of her boat.

“Why do you swim in the ocean so much for an air-breather? Why am I so interesting to you?”

His other hand rose to cup her face and Pidge, against her instinct, leaned further, closer to him.

“Why do you lie out in the sun, wearing almost nothing?”

She should be mad about the fact that he saw her sunbathing, but she was too distracted by how close he was to her face.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Pidge,” she responded, as if on autopilot, “What is yours.”

She felt the boat tip with her weight and for a moment, legends of sirens danced through her head. Then, her imagination flowed from there and to the erotic. She imagined her merman flush against her, a rock behind them as he trailed kisses down her neck, her legs wrapped around his tail.

“Lance.”

The husky quiet of his voice was the last straw. She closed the distance between them, his lips softer than she thought someone who lived their whole life in salt water would be.

He pulled away to soon, and she knew from the shuddering breath he released that he was just as affected.

“When can I see you again?” he asked, breathless.

“The day after tomorrow,” she said, “I’ll be going diving that day.”

“In that case,” Lance said, that flirty look back on his face while he slid down into the water, “until then, Pidge.”


	3. A Short Plance Interlude about Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's short as hell, but it's been in my drafts for a while now, so enjoy

Lance wasn’t a creeper. He really wasn’t. How was he supposed to know that glasswing butterfly wings were a fetish? The sheen they took on in the light, the way they connected to the comely curve of her back, a back that connected down to a pair of sinewy hips and a pert little butt.

“What?” Pidge asked, annoyance peppered into her words.

Lance swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Lance. You were staring.”

“No I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were. You had this look on your face.”

Pidge’s expression shifted into what she would nominally refer to as ‘a caricatured portrait of mouth breathing.’

“That was you. Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Lance’s ears burned.

“Well, why wouldn’t I stare? You’re sexy!”

Not the most elegant retort, but it was true.


	4. Bram Stoker's Lotura

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lotura isn't my usual cup of tea, but it fit so well with the Vampire romance angle that I couldn't help giving it a shot.

He comes in the dead of night, in the shape of mist.

She knows he’s there to feed.

There to partake of her strength, but she can’t bear to deny him.

In the dark, he hovers over her bed. She knows he’s there by the sound of his breath and the glow of his eyes.

Eyes that cut through the dark and through her very soul.

“Lotor,” she says, not a whisper but not loud enough to be called words.

“How did you know it was me?” he asks her.

“Who else would it be?”

He’s in her bed, above her, on top of the covers.

“They left garlic at the window sill,” he said, his nose wrinkling.

“I know,” Allura said, kissing one of his delicate cheek bones, “but it’s not there now. I put it away.”

His hand slides to her back and through her nightgown she can feel how cold he is.

“Why did you put it away?” he asked and she can feel him dangerously close to her neck. A thrill travelling over her skin and up into her brain. This should be wrong, but she doesn’t care. Her hands fist in the overcoat he’s wearing.

“Because I wanted you to come into my room.”

She makes to slide the coat from his shoulders and he obliges her. He’s wearing a white shirt beneath it, loose and unbuttoned at the top.

“Why did you want me to come into your room?” he asked, lips hovering close to her’s.

“You know why…”

She takes his head into her hands and guides it to her neck, to her pulse. He can practically smell the blood beneath the gorgeous skin of her neck, the slender contours of it.

He can’t help himself.

He sinks his fangs into her pulse and the moan she makes almost makes him lose control.

Not yet. He wants to savor this.

She’s not just food to him. She’s not

He barely registers the sound of her bedroom door opening and someone crying out a minor oath.

He releases her and changes, in one smooth motion flying to the window and crashing through it into the night.

He hears someone behind him saying “my God, close the door!” Maybe it’s her father.

It doesn’t matter.

He’ll be back tomorrow night.

Or maybe, he thinks spitefully, I’ll visit her during the day. They’ll never suspect it.


	5. Late One Night...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here it is. The final installment of my VLD Exophilia event. Not gonna lie, I’m really disappointed that only one other person participated. Always next year, I guess. And I’ve got other events to try out in the future and I might return to this specific card in the future. Anyway, enjoy.

Haggar felt her lover’s arms wrap around her waist.

“It’s late,” Zarkon’s warm breath tickled her ear. Ignoring it, Haggar tried to focus on the scroll before her.

“I’m not tired.” Haggar said.

“You will be if you stay up all night again.”

He always cared too much for her. Everyone told her ‘never marry an orc. They won’t care for you in the ways that matter.

They were wrong. Zarkon cared. Every time he held her, it was with tenderness he showed to few others. Every time he traveled with horses, he would insist that she rode while he walked on foot. Every time he raised his voice to her was followed by regret, and those times were few and far between.

“Magic will keep until tomorrow.”

“Not every spell is like that.”

“This one is. Come to my tent.”

“First of all, who’s the sorceress? Second, what’s in your tent?”

“Wine,” he said, kissing her neck and she fought down a mewl, “and a meal to go with it. All for you.”

He’d planned this. Every time she stayed up late more than once a week, he’d entice her away with wine or revelry or some treat of the flesh. Not that she minded. His physical gifts were always to her liking.

“And I’m lonely,” he said, sticking out his lower lip in faux sadness.

Haggar rolled her eyes and blew out the lantern on her table.

“Why go to your tent?” she asked, turning around in her arms, “when mine is just fine?”

She relished at the shudder she felt run through him as she undid the ties of his belt.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to comment and leave kudos. And feel free to make your own VLD Exophilia posts, using this handy bingo card I've made here https://64.media.tumblr.com/dda5e7ac44140a1c01f05fbe27d804bc/0fde0dc33c4c0fb8-9f/s1280x1920/d6120f9415b3215eda90cef39228f6465a747d86.png


End file.
